This is a song about "Spit rounds"

I found myself losing focus at a sunday service

Your blushing, cuz my fist gave you rounds of kiss tough,

Spit, spit, spittin calling me a liar,

She still don't know i made sarah to strangle her

Bust rounds in they chest till they fall to the floor

And they sore on hatin' reality that i ignore

Miss i want to read into your nature

Eight full rounds of birthdays, a first grader

I put that nigga in his casket

You're quiet while i spit

Ill hunt them down with motherfucking rounds (bang)

Killa! this the ghetto soap opera right here man

Every problem you ever had with another man i gotta face

Lazing around like a purple haze, smoking them rounds all you do is blaze